


Summer Snow

by dragonsHourglass



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: (kind of?), F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, winter themes despite the summer theme bc its currently winter for dandy!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-11 05:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11707485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsHourglass/pseuds/dragonsHourglass
Summary: "It's snowing," Camilla's voice breaking the uncomfortable silence was surprisingly soothing.Charlotte stood, and peered out the window. Sure enough, gentle white flakes were floating listlessly to the ground, illuminated by torches and the candles in the room. "It is."Gift for twitter user@wooperlyfor the FE Femsplash exchange!! I hope you like it!!





	Summer Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seventhsky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhsky/gifts).



> i chose to work with camilotte because its honestly one of my favorite pairings, and i was ecstatic to come across someone else who likes it! i hope this meets your expectations!

Charlotte picked at her food, one hand supporting her tired head and the other directing a bent, old fork. She sighed. The pain in her shoulder was just a dull ache now – it had been an arrow wound, treated by a healing staff only approximately half an hour prior. The dining hall was so empty. It would have been quiet save for the small group who had stayed after eating to argue about something or other – Charlotte wasn't paying attention to what the conversation was about, but the noise was certainly getting on her nerves. She scowled down at her meat, coming to the decision that she would get up and leave without having eaten (it would be better than losing it and yelling, she had an image to keep up now that she fought for royalty). 

Just as she dropped her fork, which fell clattering to the old porcelain plate, she heard her name, and looked to find a very frazzled-looking Flora approaching her. 

"I'm so sorry to bother you," the maid bowed her head politely – she looked relieved, "Can I ask a favor of you?"

Internally, Charlotte balked at the idea. Flora continued, anyway.

"I've received word that Lady Camilla hasn't eaten yet, and is requesting her dinner be brought to her. Normally such a task would go to her retainers, but they are both injured, and my sister, Jakob, and I are all occupied with caring for everyone who was hurt in battle today. It would be _so_ helpful of you if you could do it in our stead."

Charlotte thought for a moment, irritated. Of course she didn't want to bring the spoiled princess her food – but, even if Camilla wasn't either of her brothers or some other wealthy man, she was certainly a wealthy _woman_ , and one of great influence, at that. It would be wise to stay on her good side. So, despite her every desire to say no, she nodded, and said, "I'll do it."

Relief flooded the maid's features, and she bowed in thanks (Charlotte would be lying if she said that being bowed to didn't instill a swell of pride in her chest), before hurrying off. 

The battle they had fought that day was one that had driven a stake into the hopes that Nohr might win the war against the neighboring Hoshido. More of their deployed soldiers had returned hurt than well, and their healers were now working overtime to ensure they didn't lose any more of their numbers than necessary. Charlotte wondered what state she would find Camilla in – she had watched her get hurt, after all.

She stood and dumped her unfinished meal into the trash before making to fill a plate for Camilla. As she had no idea what Camilla liked or disliked, she merely put a little of everything in the hopes that it would satisfy the princess. 

Soon enough, Charlotte was knocking on the ornate door to Camilla's chambers, after which a familiar voice, sweet like honey and alluring as ever, said, "Come in."

Charlotte steeled herself, and donned her brightest, sweetest smile as she turned the knob and peeked into the room. 

Standing by the bed was Lady Elise, absent of all her ribbons and bows, healing staff clasped in her hands. It seemed as though she were about to leave.

However, on the bed itself lay Lady Camilla, propped up by numerous plush pillows, arm wrapped in a makeshift sling Charlotte guessed Elise had crafted. She looked tired, but, nevertheless, a smile on her chapped lips greeted Charlotte as she entered.

"Sorry for bothering you, Milady," Charlotte said, in her well-practiced high, sing-song voice, "But I was asked to bring your dinner."

Camilla's eyes softened. "Thank you," she said, attempting to sit up a little better. Elise waved goodbye to her sister and bade Charlotte a cheerful hello before she ducked out of the room, presumably to help in healing or to grab food herself.

Charlotte entered the room, successfully preventing herself from wrinkling her nose at the perfumed scent of the room. "I didn't know what you liked, so I hope this is okay!" she chimed, presenting Camilla with the plate.

"It's perfect, my darling. Thank you." Camilla's tone was so sickeningly sweet, it nearly made Charlotte want to gag. She controlled herself, however, and retaliated with her most disgustingly cheerful smile. 

"Okay, well –" She waved delicately to the princess, and made to leave –

"Wait, Charlotte."

She turned, expression turned to one of innocent question, though annoyance sparked in her chest.

"Yes, Milady?"

"Stay for a moment, won't you? Come here."

The way Camilla spoke was gentle, it her eyes seemed to carry worry. She, with some effort, turned so she was sitting on the edge of the bed, and patted the empty space next to her. Her plate of food was placed on the small table beside her.

Whether it was Camilla's natural authority or Charlotte's desire to keep up the act, Charlotte immediately obeyed, and sank into the silken sheets, unable too keep her hands from running over the smooth, cool fabric. Oh, how _spoiled_ Camilla was.

Camilla had adjusted so she was facing Charlotte, her perfect lavender curls cascading over her shoulders, the dim light of the candles and torches in the dark room casting a warm glow on smooth skin, and concern in the downturn of rosy lips. She reached with her free hand to Charlotte's shoulder, elegant fingers only lightly tracing over the bandages there.

"How is your wound?"

Was that truly what she wanted to ask? She could have asked while Charlotte was standing.

"Oh, Felicia healed it right up! It'll be an ugly scar tomorrow, but at least it's not bleeding anymore! I get so _faint_ at the sight of blood –"

Camilla almost looked _sad_ for a moment. "You handle yourself in battle so very well, if that's the case," she said. "I'm so glad you made it out nearly unharmed. If you had gotten hurt any more than you already had been, I'd have worried my actions were meaningless."

The scene replayed in Charlotte's mind, still fresh from that day's events.

An arrow hit her in the shoulder, striking pain through her arm and driving a low growl from her throat. She clasped her axe in hands whitened at the knuckles, her angered glare desperately trying to find the offending archer. Blood steadily trickled down her arm from where the arrow still stuck.

From the corner of her eye, she caught movement, but, before she could react, there was a blur of lavender and black and a gloved hand was pressing into Charlotte's chest, pushing her back. The heavy swing of a club connected with the arm of whoever had protected her – it was _Camilla_ , where was her wyvern? (Charlotte would later find the wyvern herself had been shot down. Her wounds had not been fatal, but they had forced the princess to battle on foot). Camilla had grunted in pain, sent to the ground by the blow. Charlotte, however, had had no time to worry about her, and rejoined the fight until her arm gave out and a retreat was called.

She supposed that blow had broken Camilla's arm.

She hesitated, unsure how to respond. Thankfully, Camilla spoke again, instead.

"You're a very fierce fighter, Charlotte. I admire that."

Charlotte feigned embarrassment. She knew she was good at fighting, dammit, but how was she going to land a rich man by _fighting_?

"Oh, no, I'm not!" she denied, "I just do what I can, but–"

"Why do you deny it?" Camilla interrupted, her eyes boring into Charlotte in a manner not unlike a mother, "You're very strong, and I've even watched you smile while hacking your way through an enemy. Despite your delicate demeanor, you seem to have a short fuse, and–"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Milady," Charlotte adopted her best puppy eyes, looking up at the princess as helplessly as possible, as if to accentuate her point. Camilla looked disappointed.

"I want to get to know you, Charlotte. I know that you put on a façade, whether it's to appear more desirable or to get on the good side of my family or _whatever_ it is for..." she sighed, "It pains me to know you aren't being honest around me. It's selfish of me..."

Charlotte's chest burned. Yes, it _was_ selfish of Camilla to think that. So she had seen through Charlotte's (admittedly, a little flimsy) act. How was it her concern that she was putting up an act at all? They were at _war_. 

Camilla must have noticed the angry flash in Charlotte's eyes, despite the dim light. 

"I'm sorry," Camilla turned her gaze to the window, looking wistful. "I understand that you do not see me as I see you, but the truth remains that I care for you – and I would like to know you better."

Something kept Charlotte on the bed. Camilla was such a genuine woman – she was so open with those around her. Charlotte absentmindedly placed a hand over her bandaged shoulder. She supposed she envied that.

She supposed, actually, that she envied a lot of things about Camilla. She was wealthy, and had servants attending to her every need. She ate the finest of foods and spent her days in luxury. Charlotte assumed this war was her first true taste of hardship. She looked awkwardly towards the floor.

"It's snowing," Camilla's voice breaking the uncomfortable silence was surprisingly soothing.

Charlotte stood, and peered out the window. Sure enough, gentle white flakes were floating listlessly to the ground, illuminated by torches and the candles in the room. "It is."

A shiver ran down her back. Looking out at the snow had made her conscious of the temperature.

"Why did you protect me?" she asked, her eyes not wavering from the swirling snow. She hadn't thought much of it at the time, but the way Camilla was speaking now made Charlotte think there was something more to it. 

"Are you cold?" Camilla asked, instead of answering her. 

"I'm fine."

There was hesitation.

"It's like I said," Charlotte could practically feel Camilla's eyes on her, "I care for you. That, and you seemed too determined to back down. We can't afford to lose such a precious axe-fighter."

"I'd have rather been protected by one of your brothers..." Charlotte grumbled. As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn't. 

Camilla stood, too – Charlotte couldn't help but notice how she cradled her injured arm. Healing staves could only do so much. 

"I'm sorry I'm no man," Camilla said, her weight shifting to one hip. "Do you truly dislike the company of other women this much?"

Charlotte thought. Of course she didn't – in fact, she loved spending time with other girls. Then, why _was_ it that she didn't favor Camilla? 

"No, that's not it," she answered.

"You just want to marry a rich man, don't you?" there was amusement in Camilla's voice, and there was a gentle smile on her lips when Charlotte glanced at her.

Charlotte's cheeks dotted themselves pink. 

"It's obvious, isn't it..." she sighed.

Camilla outright laughed this time. Somehow, though, it brought a smile to Charlotte's face, too.

"Have you ever considered going for a woman?" the princess asked.

A woman? "Why?"

"Yes, I imagine there might be a man foolish enough to fall for your act, but do you want to keep it up for the rest of your life? You'd be surprised at how many women you could attract by being genuine. Wealthy ones, too, I'm sure."

"I can't marry a _woman_ –" Charlotte sputtered, curling in on herself. To tell the truth, she had never even considered it. There was no possible way a wealthy woman would favor other women – those of status had such to upkeep.

"Not interested?" Camilla asked.

There was just _something_ about Camilla that made Charlotte feel like she could be open. It was such a stark contrast to how she had felt mere moments ago – it was jarring. Though, Camilla was known for her empathetic nature towards those who had done her no wrong, if that had anything to do with it.

"I... I don't know," she admitted, "I've never thought about it."

"I won't push you further, then." Camilla said, turning back around and pushing aside the silky covers on her bed. "But, I am certain you could find someone by being yourself."

It was Charlotte's turn to laugh. "You don't even know I'm really like."

"That's true, I suppose," Camilla admitted, sitting back down. "But, what makes you think your true self is undesirable to someone of wealth?"

"I'm vulgar," Charlotte blurted her answer before she could think about it, "I'm brash and I'm rude, and _fuck it_ , I'm strong! Don't guys like dainty little flowers? Girls they can _protect_ or whatever?"

Immediately after she spoke, she realized she had cursed in front of royalty, and slapped her hands over her mouth. 

But, Camilla smiled. "I had a feeling you were much tougher than you made yourself out to be."

Charlotte just stared at her.

"I, for one, as a wealthy woman, _do_ find that very attractive."

"What?" Charlotte's voice was weak. She was beginning to understand where Camilla had been going with her insistence that she might attract other girls. "Milady–"

"I don't wish to make you feel awkward by confessing now," Camilla's free hand twirled around her lilac curls, "But the truth of the matter is that I do think you are beautiful, Charlotte. Perhaps it's a little inappropriate, but I'll admit I went to fight by your side today to hear you as you fought. You have such a dangerous voice, and I _love_ it."

Camilla was saying it all with an expression unwavering. _How_? 

"I–" Charlotte was stunned. And then, everything made sense.

She had never disliked Camilla. From day one, Charlotte had been drawn in by the alluring swing of Camilla's hips as she walked, but her sultry voice and how jealousy she mistook for annoyance would spark her heart when Camilla caressed the cheek of one of her retainers, or when she would hold one of her siblings close in relief they had made it through another battle. She had been drawn in by those eyes the color of deep, rich wine and the broad muscle across her shoulders when she happened to bathe together and by (gods help her) the subtle bounce of Camilla's breasts when she moved. 

Charlotte, rather, had been annoyed with herself. She had refused to think about the potential attraction to another woman – what would her parents say? Such things were frowned upon in higher society, as well.

And yet, here was Princess Camilla of Nohr, confessing that she held attraction to women. That confidence made Charlotte's heart melt.

Eyes down, Charlotte made to sit by Camilla on the bed once more. She buried her face in her hands. Camilla began to comb through her long, blonde waves with her fingers, the touch gentle and comforting. Everything was confusing so very suddenly. 

"I'm sorry," Camilla's voice was was rich velvet, her touch that of a concerned mother. "That was too much, wasn't it?"

Charlotte said nothing, and slumped into Camilla's side.

Camilla began to laugh, but Charlotte interrupted.

"Don't say anything." 

"I won't."

They stayed like that for a while. Camilla continued to run her fingers through Charlotte's messy hair, and Charlotte tried to think of anything but the woman she was currently leaning on (maybe her perfume didn't smell that bad, after all). After a bit, warmth enveloped Charlotte like a blanket – to her surprise, Camilla had actually wrapped a blanket around the both of them. Charlotte brought her knees up and curled to gather more warmth. 

She didn't know when, but she supposed she had fallen asleep at some point. When she awoke, she was greeted with the gentle, sleeping face of the princess, and the one-armed embrace she had left her with. The air was warmer than it had been the previous night, and the first lights of morning were beginning to reflect on the melting snow.

Charlotte smiled. Perhaps she could consider marrying a woman, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on twitter [@soleilesbian](%E2%80%9Dtwitter.com/soleilesbian%E2%80%9D)


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